


something better than revenge

by sugaplumvisions



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugaplumvisions/pseuds/sugaplumvisions
Summary: It’s the second time that he’s ended up pitted against Sakusa, first in high school and now in college, and the second time the fellow ace has failed to acknowledge him as a rival. Bokuto can deal with being hated or loved, but he can’t deal with being ignored.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 112





	something better than revenge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boneshrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneshrine/gifts).



> Here you go Moe!!!!!! I hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!! <3

Bokuto is angry. Bokuto is exhausted. Bokuto is tired of being beaten. Bokuto is crying in the locker rooms after everyone else has gone, citing that he needed extra shower time for a made-up sore shoulder. In reality, he just wants to be alone. Or, no, he wants revenge, but that can’t be dealt with right now. 

He wants to wallow in it. It’s the second time that he’s ended up pitted against Sakusa, first in high school and now in college, and the second time the fellow ace has failed to acknowledge him as a rival. Bokuto can deal with being hated or loved, but he can’t deal with being ignored. 

Bokuto hears the door to the locker room open and shut. 

“Akaashi?” he asks, assuming he’d come to look for him. Akaashi had come to his game today to cheer him on, and Bokuto hated losing even more with his friend in the stands. 

“No,” comes the reply. “Sakusa.” 

Great. Just the person he didn’t want to see. He forces himself to stop crying. 

“Why are you in the locker room so late?” 

“I didn’t want to change with a bunch of sweaty boys,” Sakusa says, coming into Bokuto’s view and beginning to strip off his uniform, putting it in a plastic bag presumably to be washed later. 

“That’s a good idea,” Bokuto says, gesturing to the bag, trying to make small talk. “I should remember that for later. I just...jam my jersey in with everything else.” His voice is still thick with now-unshed tears. 

“That’s disgusting,” Sakusa says. 

Bokuto laughs, though he doesn’t quite feel like laughing. “Yeah, it kind of is.” He tries to look anywhere but at Sakusa’s toned back that’s currently facing him, but that only means he ends up staring at his ass. Great. The last thing this pity party needs is a boner. 

“Have you been crying?” Sakusa asks, blunter than Bokuto would have preferred. 

“No!” Bokuto says a little too quickly. 

“Convincing,” Sakusa says. He takes off his face mask and for a fleeting moment Bokuto sees his face, the strength of his jawline, the quirk of his slight smile. It hits differently than seeing his face when he’s on the court, not even just because he’s naked, but because it’s just the two of them. 

“It’s nothing,” Bokuto says, plastering normalcy over his face. 

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Sakusa says. “What’s going on?” 

He turns and gets into the shower two stalls away from Bokuto, far enough to not be uncomfortable but close enough that they can still talk. 

Bokuto wishes he’d come closer, that he’d just climbed into the same shower stall, that he’d just fucking  _ acknowledge _ him as  _ something.  _ The picture of Sakusa pinning him up against the stall flits through his mind, and it’s glorious and agonizing all at the same time. 

He wonders if this is what he’s really wanted all along, if the anger and hurt at Sakusa not bothering to recognize him as a rival was actually Bokuto wanting to be recognized as something more. 

“You’re being quiet,” Sakusa says. 

“I don’t have anything to talk about,” Bokuto says. 

“Then why are you crying? Is it because you lost?” 

“You mean because you beat me?” Bokuto glares at the walls between them. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Sakusa says. “We were the stronger team today; that’s all.” 

“You’ve always been the stronger team,” Bokuto says. “Since high school.” 

“So?” 

“So I’m sick and tired of you not paying any attention to me! I’m good too! I can be your rival!”

“Bokuto,” Sakusa says. “Do you really think I haven’t noticed you?” 

He lets out a long exhale. “Then why haven’t you paid attention to me?” 

“Because I like you,” Sakusa says, in a rush of breath. 

“You...haven’t paid attention to me...because you like me?” Bokuto asks. 

“And I didn’t know if you liked men, or if I would make you uncomfortable, and I wanted to beat you fair and square, not have you throw the match because you felt strange about playing against me.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Bokuto says. “All those years of you driving me fucking crazy were because you liked me?” 

“Like you,” Sakusa corrects. “I still do.” 

Bokuto inhales sharply. He waits, summoning up courage, and says, “Then why won’t you do something about it?” 

He doesn’t turn around, even when he hears footsteps, because he’s nervous of what he’ll see if he does. He waits until he feels the hand on his shoulder, spinning him around before Sakusa crashes his face into Bokuto’s. It’s all teeth and tongue, and it goes straight to Bokuto’s cock as they rub up against each other and lick into one another’s mouths. Sakusa reaches down a hand to wrap around both of their cocks. 

Bokuto gasps and ruts up into his grip. 

“Fuck, Sakusa!” 

“That’s it,” Sakusa says, thumbing at the head of Bokuto’s cock. 

“I’m, fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” Bokuto says. 

“Good,” Sakusa says. “You walk around like you own the court, and I hate it and I love it and I’m  _ so _ turned on by it. I want to take you apart.” 

“Fuck me,” Bokuto says, coherent except for the gasping as Sakusa moves his hand. 

Sakusa shakes his head. 

“I, fuck,  _ Bokuto _ ,” he says. “Not here. No lube, and nowhere good, and it’s absolutely filthy. Like this. You’re going to come like this.” His sentences are short as he keeps stroking. 

Bokuto sees Sakusa’s legs tremble and knows he’s getting close. 

“I don’t know how long I wanted this,” Bokuto says as Sakusa speeds up his hand. “Maybe forever?” 

“Good,” Sakusa says, biting down hard on Bokuto’s shoulder, leaving a mark that his teammates will see the next time he changes. The pain is what brings him to the edge. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Bokuto says. “Please can I come?” 

Sakusa cocks his head for a moment, and then sweeps in for another bruising kiss. He pulls back to mouth at Bokuto’s earlobe, to bite and tug, and whispers in his ear “Come for me.” 

It’s only two more strokes until Bokuto comes undone, splattering their stomachs. It’s immediately washed away by the stream of the shower. He groans and feels himself twitch in Sakusa’s hand. 

“Too much,” he says. “Too sensitive.” 

“Then get on your knees,” Sakusa says. 

Bokuto sinks to his knees on the shower floor and opens his mouth. His legs were weak post-orgasm anyway, so the floor seems like a pretty good place to be. He opens his mouth and swallows Sakusa’s cock down until it reaches the back of his throat, pulling back and stroking the remainder in his hand. 

“Not going to last like this,” Sakusa mutters. Bokuto hums his appreciation around his cock. 

It’s only a few moments before Sakusa pulls out and splatters Bokuto’s face. He’s turned away from the shower, so it stays there for a moment, Sakusa smirking proudly down on his handiwork. 

“You look good like this,” Sakusa says. 

“Thanks,” Bokuto says. “You, uh, look good too.” 

“Thanks?” Sakusa says. 

Bokuto bursts into laughter at the absurdity of the whole thing. They just fucked, and here they are giving each other awkward compliments in an empty locker room. 

“So… About not fucking me here… Does that mean you’ll fuck me somewhere else? Because?” Bokuto begins once he’s finished laughing. 

“This isn’t a one-night stand,” Sakusa says. “Unless you want it to be.” 

“No,” Bokuto says. “No, definitely not.” 

The water is getting cold, so Bokuto rinses his face off and turns it up. 

Sakusa dries off his hands. “Give me your phone.” 

Bokuto hands it over. 

“Here,” Sakusa says after a moment. “I’m in your phone now, and I texted myself your number.” 

“Don’t forget to put a little eggplant next to my contact name,” Bokuto says. “Ooh, or a peach!” 

Sakusa rolls his eyes as he gets dressed. “I’m not doing that.” 

“Well I’m doing it,” Bokuto says. 

Bokuto goes into his phone and adds an eggplant and a heart next to Sakusa’s name. 

“We’d better get going,” Sakusa says, “Or people are going to come looking.” 

“Do I get another kiss?” Bokuto asks, pulling his shirt over his head, and Sakusa obliges.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto says as he comes out of the locker room, seeing him waiting outside. “You are not going to believe what I just did!” 

Sakusa comes out a moment later, and Akaashi raises his eyebrows. “Was it him?” 

Bokuto sputters. “I mean, yes, very much so.” 

“Good for you. Finally getting that out of your system.” 

“Finally?” 

“You’ve had a crush on him since high school?”

“Was I the only one who didn’t know this?” Bokuto asks. 

“Well, presumably he didn’t either,” Akaashi says. 

“I got his number,” Bokuto says. 

Akaashi slaps him on the back. “Good for you.” 

The next day, Sakusa texts him an address. 

“Be here, 8 PM.” 

“Are you taking me out on a date?” Bokuto replies. 

“It’s the thing to do, isn’t it?” Sakusa replies. 

“We kind of did it backwards,” Bokuto says. “Sex then date, I mean.” 

“We can have more sex afterwards,” Sakusa says, and the matter-of-fact tone drives Bokuto wild. 

Bokuto feels it in his bones: this is going to be something good. 


End file.
